


Snowblower Setting

by chiaroscuroverse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Season/Series 13, Snow Shoveling, Team Free Will 2.0 (Supernatural), Wings, canon carved for juicy bits, mountain lodge, vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiaroscuroverse/pseuds/chiaroscuroverse
Summary: “You got a problem with my technique?” Cas was quiet while fluffy snowflakes landed on his hair, but his head slowly tilted. His eyes dropped to Dean’s lips. “No. I do not.”The team is sequestered in the mountains, you know the scenery, and Dean isn't dealing with his feelings, go figure.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 18
Kudos: 82





	Snowblower Setting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ciara_jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciara_jane/gifts).



> Set vaguely S13 after Cas returns, but with Jack and Eileen, because I said so. ;) Thank you to ciara_jane for diving into this ocean with me and inspiring this little story, and to Scarlet Tartan for the beta read (all mistakes mine). And special thanks to Jensen and his sexy, sexy sweatpants, which do not appear in this story.

Dean flipped a shovel full of snow over a porch railing and stretched his back with a satisfying groan. One side done, the other still piled with a fluffy snowdrift. It was a relief, being alone outside in the mountain air. He should get the kid out here, teach him something. 

The sliding glass door opened. Castiel stepped out, pulling his trench coat over a borrowed band t-shirt. Dean continued working. 

Finally Cas ventured, “You’ve been out here for a while.” 

“Ain’t gonna shovel itself. And more coming down.” He kept his eyes on his work. 

“Are you cold?” Dean hadn’t put a jacket over his flannel shirt when he’d taken a notion to do this after waking up at dawn and spending half an hour staring at the falling snowflakes. 

He shrugged. “Feels good, actually.” 

Cas walked slowly along the deck, passing by Dean, and squinted at the half-shoveled snowdrift. Dean started to feel judged—and irritated. He scooped another shovel full and flung it. 

“We’re going to be up here for weeks, probably, if not months.” 

“Yeah. Hope everybody likes freezing their asses off.”

“Sam seems pleased.”

“It’s a nice place. And he’s treating it like a honeymooning opportunity, so.” 

Cas pondered that, stopping just outside the shovel’s line of fire. He fixed Dean in place with a stare. “You’re avoiding me.”

Dean pursed his lips and shook his head, but shoveled again. 

“We should talk about it. If you’re trying to say you never want it to happen again, _fine_. Just say it.” 

And then he was sloppy-shoveling. It wasn’t fair, how he was acting, and he knew it. Because he was the one that started it. 

> _Bunker kitchen, light switch flips off, leaving only light from the hall. Dean grabs for Cas’s coat and gently yanks him back._
> 
> _“Dean?”_

Scoop. 

“It’s inefficient, the motion you’re using.” 

Fling.

> _He doesn’t have a plan. He’s just a little drunk and a lot bereft and not quite used to the fact that he doesn’t have to miss Cas anymore._
> 
> _“Wait—I just.” His hands scrabble at the back of Cas’s shoulders, pulling him close, his head falling heavily next to his neck. He inhales and lets his mouth rest on the warm skin there. And then he’s being held like he wanted, tightly. He sometimes forgets the inhuman strength, always coiled under the surface, under that coat, until his knees wobble and his arms cling, and Cas has turned him to lean on the wall._
> 
> _“Dean, what do you need?”_
> 
> _Cas puts a hand on his forehead and lifts his face, but Dean squeezes his eyes shut. Just hold me; don’t look at me, he thinks, but he says nothing._

The steam built in his head. _Inefficient, my ass._ Dean flipped the shovel behind him like a spear and got in Cas’s aggravating angel face. It felt good. “You got a problem with my technique?” 

Cas was quiet while fluffy snowflakes landed on his hair, but his head slowly tilted. His eyes dropped to Dean’s lips. “No. I do not.” 

> _He refuses sight, feeling his way. Knocks his forehead against Cas’s, searching, pressing forward until he finds his lips. Cas doesn’t seem surprised, allows him. Dean tries to surge forward with his whole body, making a sound when Cas presses him back harder against the wall. He opens his mouth under the kiss, reaches for Cas’s tongue. For a glorious minute he has it, until he’s gasping and dragging his lips across a stubbled chin, then falling back to the wall. Finally opening his eyes and—_
> 
> _“I—I should, um.” Dean waves at the door. “Gotta get some sleep.”_
> 
> _The hallway light is soft on Cas’s face, enough to see his lips shine. “Do you want me to come with you, Dean?”_
> 
> _“Nah, man, I’m good.” He ignores the hurt blink of Cas’s eyes and rambles on, extricating himself from his grip to step to the hallway. “I’m—sorry, having a moment there. Sorry. Okay.” And he stalks away._

Dean stepped back and scooped another shovelful, that weird feeling of angry satisfaction turned on its head, and he’s suddenly on the back foot again. It’s his own fault he’s been prickly and awkward and starting petty arguments with Cas since the following morning. All he did was offer was Dean wanted— 

There was a loud flutter, and wind and snow rushed past his face. 

“No!” he shouted, whirling in the blizzard, suddenly hoarse. “Don’t _leave_ me!” 

Not ten seconds later the air cleared and there stood Cas, like a pillar.

The snowdrift was gone. 

“The _hell_ did you just do?” 

“Dean, there’s no need for you to do so much work when I can handle it.” 

Dean inhaled slowly, willed his heartbeat calmer. “Goddammit.” 

“You thought I was flying away.” 

“Well, I didn’t know you had a snowblower setting!” 

Cas rolled his eyes, but as he scanned Dean from head to toe his face softened. “I won’t leave you. I never... _want_ to.” 

“Okay.” He nodded twice. “Good.” 

“It’s only been weeks since I got back, and I can’t figure out how much you actually want me around.” Cas pressed closer to his personal space, coat flapping open, and Dean’s eyes caught on the graphic design across his chest. 

“Yeah, that’s fair. I _do_ , though! Look, dude, I don’t—I don’t know how to say things. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“It’s okay. I was worried that I’d overstepped. To be clear, I wasn’t trying to ‘get in your pants.’” 

(He did the air quotes and Dean couldn’t help but smile.) 

“I thought, given your mood, you might appreciate continued physical contact. Like sleeping. With me.” He took on a challenging look. “I know what I felt.” 

Dean wiped his face with a glove, and bits of snow melted on his skin. “You weren’t wrong. I did want that. And I definitely wanted you to get in my pants.”

Cas’s eyes widened. 

“I got scared. It would change, well, everything.” 

Cas waved at the house and the morning sky. “At this point, what difference would it make to the universe? Don’t you deserve a little joy in this life?” 

Dean huffed a chuckle. “Deserve?” He stared at the sky for a long moment, shaking his head. “Bottom line is, I couldn’t stand it—when you were...gone. Thought about so many things I wished I would have done—and now here you are and I’m still a dumbass.” 

“I won't argue with that. But you don't understand how much _more_ you are.” 

The blue of Cas’s eyes shone particularly strong in the white wilderness that surrounded them, and the longer Dean stared the harder he wanted to touch, keep, be touched. 

Fuck it. 

Dean stuck two gloved fingers between his teeth and ripped a hand free. He brushed wet snowflakes off Cas’s cheek with his thumb, then slid fingers into his dark hair and pulled. 

“Come ‘ere.” 

Gentle hands landed on Dean’s cheeks and he melted into Cas’s lips with a sob. He threw the shovel so hard it clattered off the railing, and plunged his freed hand under the trench coat to yank Cas’s body closer.

After several kisses, Cas tried to speak. Dean kissed the corner of his mouth. 

“Dean?” He tossed his head toward the house. “We have an audience.” 

Dean pulled away and looked through the glass door to the now lit-up kitchen. Sam and Eileen sat at the table, watching them like TV. Eileen grinned and raised her cup of coffee, and the flash of triumph in Sam's face made him scowl. 

Cas nodded, slightly dazedly, in the other direction. “Jack seems pleased.” 

From the other window, Jack waved, a beatific smile on his face. Dean could imagine that to him this was the natural order of things falling into place. And with that thought, something loosened in his chest. 

Dean circled his arms around Cas’s neck and murmured, “I want _you_ to be.” 

“I think you know.” 

“All right, all right, show’s over!” he shouted toward the house, adding a middle finger to Sam. 

He kissed the top of his Cas’s head. “Let’s take a walk.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, SPN fandom, it's my first Destiel fic! I'd love to hear from you, emojis welcome! I'm on tumblr for SPN stuff @chiaroscuroverspn


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